The Scarecrow and the Bear
by Zenith0011
Summary: Three year old Octavian, armed with his first knife, receives a strange present. Uh oh.


Summary: Three year old Octavian, armed with his first knife, receives a very strange present. Uh oh.

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Rating: K

Genre: Humor

Characters: Octavian

Status: One-Shot, complete

A/N: Random idea that came to me... I mean, Octavian wasn't always the way he is... Hah. Nevermind.

"What is it?"

The small boy sitting in the park of New Rome looked up in confusion at the figure above him. Even at such a young age he was skinny and pale, and highly inquisitive. Like every demigod or child of a demigod, he was already armed- a small, almost blunt knife sat smug in its sheath, hanging from his belt.

This, however, wasn't the cause of three-year-old Octavian's question. The object of his curiosity was a stuffed toy that had been placed before him. It had ears, black bead eyes, and rough brown fabric for fur. He glanced at it one more time before he returned to the figure, awaiting the answer.

"It's called a teddy bear," the man explained. "It was given as a donation. Some woman believed it could be used to see the future. How, though, don't ask me..."

After he walked off, Octavian and the bear had a small stare-down. Octavian decided he was winning.

"What a weird name," he told it. "What's a teddy, anyway? And why are your eyes black? It's slightly creepy."

The bear offered no answers, nor did Octavian expect any. He talked to himself often.

"And what's the nonsense about seeing the future?" he added, grabbing its arms and making it pirouette absentmindedly. "That's my job. It's a special job, too. Not just any person- or bear, I suppose- can do it."

The bear simply completed its pirouette and moved no more.

"Hm," Octavian mused. He went onto his stomach for more comfort and propped himself up by his elbows. After another stare-down, he scowled.

"What good are you, exactly? You don't do anything. Certainly not tell the future. That woman must have been an idiot."

He flicked the bear's chubby stomach and it fell onto its back, lifeless as ever.

Octavian pulled out his knife and twisted it in his hands and he thought. The knife was also a donation. In fact, everything he currently owned was a donation, including the toga he wore. As the augur, he belonged to the people of the Legion, not his family or himself.

This particular knife was dulled to nearly the point of uselessness. It would be taken away soon, and replaced, and Octavian would be saddened because it had been his first. The handle had red designs moving across it, a simple pattern of vines, but once Octavian had had a nightmare about the knife, and blood ran from the vines and pulsed like a beating heart, not like paint or dye.

He didn't mind. He was still fond of it.

As he thought of what to do with the bear, he used the knife to cut pieces of grass. Perhaps he should give it back to the man, and ask that it be returned. Or he could keep it- though for what purpose he couldn't see.

The biggest question was, of course, on the forefront of his mind.

"Can you really see the future?" He demanded to stuffed creature, more firmly than before. It continued to show no sign of life, and Octavian began to feel frustrated with it. He sliced the knife through some of the fabric considered as 'fur'.

It didn't even really look like a bear. It could have been a squirrel with no tail. Or a sloth. Though why someone would make a stuffed sloth was even more confusing than the stuffed bear.

Almost without thinking he cut down the center of the bear's foot, all the way through. Perhaps it would only tell the future with some prompting, or with time. Either way, he should get a chance to amuse himself.

Another slice, this time across the bear's stomach. After all, something with such black eyes could never be allowed to live. That would be ludicrous.

He gingerly opened the separated flaps of fabric and slowly pulled out the puffy white cotton. It felt soft so he set some to the side to keep, and continued on.

When the man returned to escort Octavian back to the temple, his heart sank as he realized just how little hope the Legion had in this young augur.

For before him was a grinning small boy, two neat piles organized. One of teddy parts, and the other of stuffing.

"I figured out how he saw the future," Octavian stated, proud. "His guts." He gestured to the stuffing pile. "So, I need lots of guts."

"Of course," the man sighed, "Of course, Octavian. How'd you figure that out?"

"It has white guts," Octavian explained simply. "Like the temple floors. Not like its eyes.

The man opted not to question Octavian, as was usually best. He waited as the small boy gathered his items, and once he was done he grabbed the small hand to bring Octavian away from the park, the boy bragging about his discovery all the way.

The world would have difficulty preparing itself for Octavian. The man hoped it was possible.


End file.
